Upside down.

10 June 2017

Is my life truly meaningless and void of purpose if I don’t
ever have children? Because I haven’t
had them, does that mean I’m incomplete, missing out on what is surely to be
the most magical experience that will encapsulate all my hopes and dreams and
longings forever? It might seem as
though my life is pretty awesome already, but clearly nothing will ever come
close to the ecstasy and fulfillment I could feel with a child in my arms, and
until that happens, well, I’m really just biding my time and taking up space
until this real, true, divine purpose for those of us blessed with two x
chromosomes has been achieved.

These phrases and questions probably seem like one of two
things to you – either they are completely ridiculous, or you believe they are,
to some extent or another, basically true.
I hear a lot of these types of things regularly. Not always put in such a blunt manner, but it
seems especially recently I’ve been around people who seem to adamantly believe
I won’t ever be fulfilled, or my life is a waste, unless I’ve reared children. I’ve written previously here and here about
the fact that I’m single and totally okay with it, but it seems it’s time to
address this child topic.

I don’t want children.

Now, did I say I will never have children? Nope. Have I ever
said that? Nope. I’m not interested in
putting God in a box. Might I have
children some day? Yep. Absolutely I
might and I’m totally open to that possibility. When will I know when it’s
right? When I want them. When I believe with all my being it’s the
next right thing, not just for now but for the rest of my days on earth, to
raise children. When that happens, bring it on.
But it isn’t now.

And when the topic comes up at the dinner table and I answer
the question I was asked, that’s when the condescending, patronizing, and
downright obnoxious comes out of a lot of people’s mouths.

Oh, you’ll want
them. You’ll regret it someday. Your work will never be as important as your
children. You don’t realize now what you
are missing out on. They’ll turn your
life upside down. Five years from now you’ll be holding your own bundle of joy
and wondering how you lived without them.

Sure, that’s a possibility.
Again, maybe someday I will want them, or regret not having them. But I think it would be far worse to regrethaving them. Maybe I’m called to this nomadic life, of adventure
and of travel and meetings with first ladies and prime ministers. I couldn’t
have gotten on the plane to Guinea with three days’ notice if I had a
family. And it’s not actually the words that bother me, it’s the attitude,
the condescending, patronizing way in which they are spoken over me, as if I
don’t really know what’s really important. As if I won’t really experience life to the full without being called mama, as if I am somehow incomplete in this life I lead.

Side note: would anyone ever say that to a man? That’s a
whole ‘nother can of worms. Anyway.

I would much rather live a life without children than ever,
ever look my child in the eyes and feel regret at having them. I want to know I was born to be a
mother. One of the big problems of the
world today? There are far too many people out there who have no business being
parents. They had children because they
were supposed to or because they
wanted someone to love them or to try to hold on to a wayward spouse or any one
of a million wrong reasons to have a child.
The one reason to have a child? You were born to do this, you have been
called and created to raise up this person to be an upstanding citizen of the
earth. And there are millions and
billions of amazing parents out there living out that calling on their lives. You’re amazing, it’s an amazing calling, well
done. But it’s not mine. Not now.

And really, let’s be real.
I want to say sometimes to these type of people, who clearly feel they
know much more about the realities of life than I do, that I could go get
knocked up if you think I would experience this nirvana you seem to think
childrearing is. I could find someone to
marry me, too, if that’s what the world is waiting for. I could probably be married and pregnant in a
matter of weeks – is that really what you want for me? Not at all. I think what
people want is really what I want as well, and that is the best God has for me;
but they can’t possibly open themselves up to the possibility of imagining God’s best might not include children.

I know there’s an argument that the reason women exist is to
have children, to multiply and fill the earth.
I get it, though I completely disagree.
But let me suggest that the earth is
already full. The earth can barely
sustain the people we have in it. But
that’s another discussion for another day, a rabbit trail I’m not going to
continue down right now. For now, let’s
just maybe consider God’s best for me may not include a spouse or children, and
I’m okay with that. But the rest of the
world seems not to be.

~~~

Privilege

There’s been a lot of talk around the world in the last few
years especially about privilege. White
privilege, American privilege, male privilege, upper class privilege, etc. It’s the idea that one group of people is
better off than another. Some people say
it doesn’t exist. They’re either blind
or closed-minded or both, and it seems most of those people are actually the
most privileged of them all.

It’s from a privileged place that I have a choice, and I
know it. I can choose not to have
children. In many, many countries across
the globe, this would be a death sentence, to be alone as a woman with no one
to care for me later in life. And it
grieves me that so many don’t have the choices and options and opportunities I
have. So they marry for necessity and
have babies for security and sometimes there is love and respect but sometimes
there isn’t, and there isn’t anything they can do about it. It breaks my heart and makes me want to rail
against the injustice of it all. I had
this conversation just the other day with the guys I’m working with. They asked
why I don’t have children. I don’t mind the question, especially from these
guys; they work in a place where your very survival is dependent on having
children.

But for some reason beyond all human comprehension, I wasn’t
born there. I was born in middle class educated America, where my value is not
determined by my progeny, although it seems in some eyes it still is. Where I can work and own land and vote and
save for my future and decide where I want to live, things millions of women
can’t do. I recognize it and don’t take
that privilege lightly, I’ve been gifted a tremendous amount of favor and
desperately want to steward it well.
It’s one of the reasons I do what I do, living this life that is not
about me but is about us, this collective race called humanity
that is terribly unjust and needs people willing to stand up and speak up
against the injustice of it.

~~~

It takes a village.

A few years ago I was thinking about this whole mothering
thing, wondering if there was something broken in me that made me weird and
different, asking God to speak to whatever that was. And it was stunning.

What first came to my mind were the faces of some of the
amazing women who have helped shape me into the person I am today. My mom is awesome but it truly takes a
village; one person cannot raise a child. I think about all the incredible
other women who played that role at one time or another in my life; Shirley,
Debbie, Cynthia, Kathy, Yvonne, Ruth, Kelly, Kim, Leslie, and many, many others
ahead of me in this journey who have offered guidance, wisdom, truth,
correction, safety, compassion, and the zillion other virtues who have shaped
and guided me to the present. I still
need them and am eternally grateful for being a part of my story.

Then what came to mind were the beautiful faces of some of
the young women I’ve had the privilege and honor of mentoring through one
season or another. Incredible girls and
women I’ve offered guidance, wisdom, truth, correction, safety, compassion, and
the zillion other virtues that shape and guide them into their future. Some for a short season, some for a longer season,
but all of them also a part of my story.
The children of my heart. It
takes a village, it takes incredible women pouring into incredible women,
regardless of their genetic makeup and story and struggle.

One author I love always says there is no such thing as other people’s children. And I choose to live my life in agreement with
that statement.

~~~

Upside down.

Often after telling me in condescending tones that someday I
will want children, they will also say something like they’ll turn your life upside down. And yes, I know this to be true, and believe
it wholeheartedly. And what I’d like to
say (and occasionally do) is EXACTLY, why
on earth would I want to do that? Because my life is awesome, thanks. And I’m not eighteen years old making brash
statements about a life I can’t imagine. I’m thirty-six and have done pretty
well for myself, (no) thanks for your concern.
In the same way God doesn’t call all of us to be married, or to work
overseas, or to be mechanics or bankers or teachers or doctors, he doesn’t call
all of us to have children, either.

So finally, a public service announcement and I will get off
my soapbox: I know you mean well. I know
you just can’t imagine life without children and want me to be as happy as you
are. And I mean well too, when I say, I
can imagine life without children and right now it is much more appealing to me
than a life with. And that doesn’t diminish my value as a woman, as a sister
and aunt and friend and member of the human race, striving to leave this earth
a bit better for those who follow in my footsteps and stand on my shoulders and
reach greater heights than I could ask or imagine.

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About Me

Currently blogging from Cambridge, Massachusetts

Disclaimer:

This is my personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here are my own and do not reflect the views and opinions of any organization or institution with which I am currently or was once affiliated. This includes but is not limited to Mercy Ships, Harvard University, University of Liverpool, Peace Corps, or the US Government.